


Don't Say It Like It's a Bad Thing

by Telesilla



Series: A Thing or Two About the Giants [2]
Category: Baseball RPF
Genre: Baseball, Blow Jobs, Facials, Hand Jobs, M/M, San Francisco Giants, Team Dynamics, Wordcount: 5.000-10.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-06
Updated: 2013-07-06
Packaged: 2017-12-17 20:06:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/871463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Telesilla/pseuds/Telesilla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Oh, you can call me a slut, just don't say it like it's a bad thing." -- <em>Brandon Belt to Hunter Pence</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Say It Like It's a Bad Thing

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place on September 1st, 2012, and therefore overlaps with "Same Thing We Do Every Night, Buster."

_September 1, 2012  
@ Cubs W 5-2_

Their second game at Wrigley is another night game, so Hunter gets to sleep in a little. He's in a ridiculously good mood when he wakes up and he's groggy enough that it takes a moment to figure out why. Oh right, he spent part of his evening having incredible sex with Belt...Brandon. And he thinks, scratching his stomach as he sits up, there's more good sex in the future. 

Also? His teammates are, apparently, an interesting bunch of guys. Hunter's slept with teammates before; he'll be able to keep his cool when he sees Brandon later. Posey and Cain? Bum? Maybe not. Hunter shakes his head as he thinks about what Brandon told him last night. Hopefully Hunter won't embarrass himself.

A half hour later, Hunter's sitting in the hotel restaurant, trying to explain to the waitress that no, he doesn't want toast or muffins or biscuits or any other form of bread. He finally negotiates for extra fruit and is settling down with his tablet to read his blog list when Vogey appears out of nowhere and says, "mind if I join you?"

"Um, sure." Hunter gestures at the seat opposite his.

Vogey's got a copy of the Tribune with him and after he orders breakfast, they both sit and read in silence for a few minutes. Hunter hasn't spent much time around Vogey but he likes him well enough. He gets kind of grumpy the day before he pitches and and even grumpier on the actual day, but Hunter's okay with that. Pitchers are weird.

"So," Vogey finally says. He's stirring cream into his coffee and Hunter is trying not to stare at his cup. Coffee's one of his little cheats, but he doesn't use cream or sugar and there are days when he really misses them. 

"So?"

"Belt," Vogey says.

Hunter gives him a politely curious look while trying to figure out who said something to Vogey since he wasn't in the bar last night. "Belt?"

"You're good at that," Vogey says. "That whole 'I have no idea what you're talking about' thing, but don't bother. I talked to Romes earlier this morning."

It's kind of hard to be angry at Romo, Hunter thinks, but seriously, he should learn to keep his mouth shut. "Okay," he says, focusing on the problem at hand. He doesn't know much about Vogey but he does know that he's pretty religious. Fuck.

"Belt's...well, he's the way he is and...." Vogey shrugs. "I'd say what he gets up to is none of my business, but the thing is, he's a kid, you know?"

"Yeah," Hunter says. He let's out a breath and relaxes a little; this isn't as bad as he thought. "This is the 'don't fuck the Baby G over' conversation, I take it."

"Got it in one." Vogey pauses and sips his coffee. "You've been in the show for a while and I'm sure you see what I see; he's pretty raw now, but he's got a hell of a career in front of him."

"And ya'll like him and are worried that the new guy's gonna mess with his head?"

"Exactly." 

The idea that Brandon needs protecting is actually kind of hilarious. It's not like Hunter's going to lead him astray or something; he's not sure it's possible to lead Brandon astray. But still, it's kind of sweet that the guys think he needs looking after. 

"I like him" Hunter says. "I'm not looking to break his heart...." He trails off, not sure how much Vogey knows about Belt's arrangement with Haylee. He finally settles on, "or anyone else's." That's all encompassing and has the advantage of telling Vogey that he's not cheating on anyone either.

"Glad to hear it."

"And you know...." Again Hunter pauses but fuck it. If Vogey can't deal with what Hunter has to say, then he shouldn't have started this conversation. "I'm more gay than straight and it's not like anyone outside my friends knows that. I'm pretty fucking careful."

To Hunter's relief Vogey just smiles. "Okay. And I'm sorry about this...I'm not a total jerk."

"Nah, it's okay. I'm just glad we talked now and not later next week, like maybe the day you start." He pauses and when he speaks again his voice is serious. "And you know, I'm glad you guys look after him." And now that the thinks about it, he is; after all, Brandon talked about fucking guys who aren't players. Even though Hunter's sure Brandon's careful, it's nice to know that his teammates are keeping an eye out for trouble.

As talks go, Hunter thinks as the waitress brings their food, this one was pretty easy. After several moments of silence, he brings up the threatening weather and they segue from that to a discussion about Germano's curve and where to get the best pizza in town. Not that Hunter eats pizza anymore, but he's spent time in Chicago and has opinions anyway.

"What was that with Vogey?" Brandon asks as they warm up on the field later on. "I was going to come over and have breakfast with you but it looked serious."

"You don't know?" Hunter laughs a little. "He warned me, in the nicest possible way, not to break your heart or fuck up your career or, you know, do whatever other nefarious deeds he thinks I might be contemplating doing to you."

"Oh that. It's like having a bunch of big brothers." Brandon shakes his head. "I'm twenty-five; I can look after myself."

"I know that," Hunter says. "It's pretty cool though, when you think about it."

"Oh?"

"A good chunk of the team knows you blew me in the men's room last night and all anyone wants to do is warn me not to hurt your feelings. In some clubs, it'd get around the clubhouse and then to the front office and next thing you know we'd both be traded for a bag of balls and a player to be named later." 

"Huh. Never thought of it that way." Brandon shrugs. "So, nefarious deeds?"

"Because that's a conversation I want to have on the outfield at Wrigley."

* * *

The weather holds up and Hunter has a half way decent game. It turns out that Belt's not starting after all. Timmy's starting which means they're "resting" Posey by putting him at first so Brandon's not in the game until the 9th. And once the home half of the 9th gets going, and Hunter's out in right field behind Brandon, Hunter's not distracted by him or anything. In the end, not only do they beat the Cubs, but the win goes to Timmy, so it's all good. Wins, Hunter decided long ago, are what counts. 

A win calls for some degree of celebration, but tomorrow's a get away day game and while Boch doesn't believe in anything as old fashioned as curfews, no one wants to get too drunk. Hunter tries not to drink much in general, but it's like coffee--booze is another cheat. In all honesty, he kind of fails at paleo.

So he has a couple beers and ends up in an animated discussion about smart phones with Romo and Pagan and it's kind of funny because don't people who work in offices have these same conversations? It's like they're hanging out in a bar after a day spent in a cube farm. He says something along those lines to Romo, who just laughs.

"Yeah, like you could sit still long enough to work in an office."

"Dude, I'd be stealing bandwidth left and right."

"I'd photocopy my ass," Romo says. "More fun than stealing bandwidth."

"Only until you break the copy machine," Pagan says. "And anyway, no one wants to see a close up of your skinny ass."

"Hey, there are chicks all over who would pay good money...."

"To put it up on Facebook," Hunter interrupts him.

"Just think, a whole page dedicated to my butt," Romo says, a little too loudly

"The hell?" Lopez says, turning away from his conversation with Bum.

"Romes' gonna put his ass up on Facebook," Pagan says with a perfectly straight face.

"Oh Jesus," Lopez says. "No one wants to see that."

"I tried to tell him but he's not listening to me."

His teammates, Hunter thinks, not for the first time, are weird.

About the time Hunter's thinking of heading up to his room, he sees Posey bump Cain a little with his shoulder and then nod at the door. Cain's starting tomorrow and it could just be a control freak catcher reminding his pitcher that it's getting late, but Hunter can't help reading more into it. Is this, he wonders as he leaves the bar, what it's going to be like from here on out? Is he going to be constantly speculating about his teammates' sex lives? It's not the worst situation to be in and hey, the visuals are entertaining.

"Hang on," Brandon calls from across the lobby. Hunter holds the elevator door for him and Belt looks at him curiously as he steps into the elevator. 

"What's so funny?"

"Thanks to you, I'm never gonna look at Cain and Posey in the same way."

"Oh them...." Brandon rolls his eyes. "They might as well be married. Actually, I think that's how they think of it--all four of them I mean. Kinda smart really."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. You act like it's no big deal, like there's nothing wrong with it, and no one notices. It's just Buster looking out for one of his pitchers or Cainer trying to lighten a buddy up."

"You know what's going on so obviously you noticed."

"Not exactly...."

Brandon pauses as the doors open. The hall's empty but he doesn't say anything as they make their way to his room.

Once inside, it's kind of like a switch goes off in Hunter's head. He might not have been distracted by Brandon all day, but now? Right now, he doesn't give a damn about Cain or Poesy or anything that doesn't involve sex with Brandon. "Tell me later," he says, grabbing Brandon by the arms. He finds himself hoping he's putting bruises on top of the bruises from last night as he shoves Brandon up against the wall by the door."Right now...right now's for other things."

He leans in and kisses Brandon as hard as he can. It's more teeth than lips and he worries about bruising Brandon's mouth for maybe ten seconds before he gets too involved in the kiss to care. Brandon's mouth is amazing and Hunter would love to stand here all night just kissing him. Of course, he thinks as he nibbles at Brandon's lush lower lip, there are other things Brandon can do with his mouth.

"Get down on your knees," he says, his voice rough.

Belt goes down, licking his lips as he does. They're shiny and a little red and Hunter has to close his eyes and breathe in deeply in order to get his shit together.

"Go on, get it out" The order is unnecessary; Brandon's already undoing Hunter's belt.

Hunter's wearing an old pair of jeans and Brandon grins up at him as he tugs on Hunter's fly and the buttons give way. "Ya gotta like a man who wears 501s."

"Yeah? What about guys who go commando?"

"Even better," Brandon says, shoving Hunter's jeans down. 

Brandon uses his tongue first, licking lightly at the head of Hunter's cock. "Didn't have the time to do this right last night," he says, his breath a wash of warmth over Hunter's dick and thighs.

"You gonna talk or are you gonna get your mouth down there and suck my dick?"

Half a second later, Hunter has to lean forward and brace himself on the wall. Brandon took him all the way in in one easy move. He pulls back just as easily, sucking hard as he does. "Jesus fuck," Hunter mutters. "Keep doing that."

Brandon obeys, using his tongue when he can and God, but it's fucking amazing. Hunter had thought Brandon was good last night, but he's even better when he's not rushing it. Although, Hunter thinks, moaning as Brandon's tongue finds a sensitive spot, it's still going to be over just as fast if Hunter doesn't do something.

He manages to hold out for another couple of minutes, maybe longer, before he's reaching down and pushing gently on Brandon's forehead. "Stop now."

Again, Brandon obeys, pulling back until just the head of Hunter's cock is resting on his bottom lip. When his tongue flicks out to lick up a bit of precome, Hunter shudders. "You like that? Like having it down there, right in your face?"

Brandon nods, smirking as much as he can under the circumstances. 

"Good, because you're gonna get your hand up in there and jack me until I come all over your face." Even as he's saying it, Hunter raises his eyebrows in what he hopes is a question--is Brandon okay with that?

He must be, because he pulls back, licks his hand in a showy way and then wraps it around Hunter's dick. He's got gorgeous hands--they're big like the rest of him--and Hunter's been thinking about them almost as much as he's been thinking about Brandon's mouth. "Yeah," he mutters. "Fuck yeah."

Brandon's hand is tight and a little too dry and he's going slow; each rough stroke is almost too much. It's one of the better handjobs Hunter's ever gotten and he wishes he wasn't so close to coming, wishes he could make this last for a good long time. But then he looks down and there's Brandon, his lips still slick, looking up at Hunter with those big brown eyes and it's just too much.

Still bracing himself on the wall with one hand, Hunter wraps his hand around Brandon's and makes him pick up the pace. "You want it...." he manages to get out between harsh gasps. 

"Yeah," Brandon says and he sounds as wrecked as Hunter feels. "Do it...please...all over my face."

That's all it takes; Hunter tries to keep his eyes open as he comes hard. It's worth the effort, watching as his come stripes Brandon's face and drips down onto his shirt is incredibly, mind-blowingly hot. "Fuck...fuck...Brandon...." Hunter's knees almost give out and he has to let go of Brandon's hand so he can brace himself on the wall with both hands. He stays there for a moment, trying to catch his breath, and then, just when he thinks he can stand on his own, Brandon runs one finger along his cheek. With a shudder, Hunter watches as Brandon slowly licks his finger.

"You," Hunter croaks. He pauses, clears his throat and tries again. "You should come with a warning...."

"Like what?" Brandon says, interrupting him. "Slippery when wet?"

It's a totally stupid joke, just the kind of dorky thing Brandon says all the time and Hunter can't help laughing. "If I find out you let me do that just so you could make that joke, I...I won't spank you."

Brandon looks down at the front of his jeans; as snug as they are, it's pretty obvious just how hard he is. "Yeah I did because I totally hated every minute of that."

With another laugh, Hunter finally pushes himself off the wall. 

"So, my turn to take care of you."

"Well, yeah. Mind if I wash my face?"

"Don't. Not yet."

"Okay," Brandon says, biting his lip. As they head to the bed, he pauses.

"What?"

"I like it, you know. Being like this."

Hunter turns to look at him. "I'm hearing a 'but' in there."

"I worked through being embarrassed or ashamed, so...."

"It's not about humiliation."

"Yeah," Brandon says with a smile. "I don't see why I should feel bad about it."

"You shouldn't. Don't worry, I won't call you a slut or do anything like that."

"Oh you can call me a slut, just don't say it like it's a bad thing."

"Got it. If you want to wash your face...."

"Nah, it wasn't that." Brandon reaches up and rubs his cheek a little. "I like smelling like sex."

"Anything else I should know?" Hunter asks, as he toes off his shoes and lets his jeans slide to the floor. "You want a safeword?"

Brandon's brow furrows a little. "I don't think so...no, not now. Maybe later, but it's a little early for those kinds of games."

Just like that, the idea of playing those kinds of games with Brandon sets up residence in Hunter's head. Brandon tied up and struggling, saying "no" and "please don't" until Hunter "forces" him to admit he wants it. _He said later, so we need to get to the point where we trust each other enough to play that way._

"Fair enough." Hunter strips his shirt off, but shakes his head when Brandon starts to unbutton his. "No. You can take off those ridiculous shitkickers and your socks, but leave everything else on."

Brandon takes his boots off--and really, they're not ridiculous at all. Hunter's seen plenty of urban cowboys who wear expensive boots that look like their owners never did a lick of work in their lives, but Brandon's boots are worn and scuffed and obviously lived in. He likes the way they look; it's a little bit of home, same as hearing Brandon's drawl now and then

Hunter shakes his head a little, and brings his attention back to the moment. 

"Now," he says, sitting down on the edge of the bed. "Bring your slutty ass over here and drop your pants."

Unlike Hunter, Brandon is wearing shorts, a pair of plain gray boxer briefs. "Leave those up for now and get over my lap."

Biting his lip again, Brandon nods and then settles down over Hunter's lap. It's not easy for anyone to look graceful in this situation; Brandon's all arms and legs and elbows, but Hunter's happy to manhandle him into position. Once he does....

"I know you probably hear this all the time, but you have a seriously fantastic ass." 

"It's been mentioned a time or two. You gonna actually do anything?"

"Oh, you want me to spank you?" Hunter slaps Brandon's ass lightly. "How about you ask nicely?"

"Oh pretty please, Hunter Pence, will you spank me?" 

Hunter laughs and slaps him again. "Once more with feeling."

"As if," Brandon says with a snort.

"Okay." Hunter press his thigh up against Brandon's erection and runs his hand gently over one ass cheek. "I'll be right here in case you change your mind."

Petting Brandon's ass isn't exactly a hardship, but Hunter has no intention of doing only that. After a moment or so, he slides his fingers down between Brandon's cheeks, pressing just a little harder against Brandon's shorts each stroke. When Brandon squirms and spreads his legs a little, Hunter's hand moves even further down. Remembering how well it went over last night, he rubs a finger behind Brandon's balls.

"Fuck," Brandon mutters. "Oh fuck...."

"You want something?"

"Fuck you." 

"You want that, you're going to have to beg a lot harder." Hunter blinks a little even as he speaks. Where'd that come from? He hasn't let anyone fuck him for months, not since he taught Savanna how to fuck a guy with a strap on. And she doesn't have anything in her box of toys like what Brandon's got in his shorts.

When Brandon speaks again, his voice is serious. "You'd let me do that?"

"Maybe," Hunter says. "As long as you behave, do exactly what I tell you do, and beg very very sincerely. Oh and not before a game on a get away day; I'm not playing and then flying from Chicago to San Fran with a sore ass."

"But you're okay with me playing and then flying home with a sore ass."

"Yeah well, you seem to be okay with it too, so why don't you settle down and ask for what you want." As a bit of a tease, he slaps one ass cheek sharply. 

"You call that spanking?"

"You call that asking?"

Brandon snorts again, that weird little noise he makes when he's trying not to crack up. It's a ridiculous sound, but it's pure Brandon and Hunter can't help grinning as he starts petting Brandon's ass again. He alternates between stroking and teasing for the next couple of minutes, doing his best to ignore Brandon's increasingly frantic squirming.

"C'mon Hunter," Brandon finally says.

Hunter stops, waiting. 

"Damnit!"

"Nope, still doesn't sound like asking." He pinches the underside Brandon's ass, close to his thigh.

"Oh God," Brandon moans, sounding a lot more desperate. "Hunter...."

"Yeah?"

"Will you _please_ , please...." He trails off with a sharp gasp as Hunter pinches him again. "Oh fuck...please?"

"Please what?"

"Just spank me already...please?" He sounds like he means it now and Hunter lifts his hand. "Please...I need it...want it...."

"Okay," Hunter says, his voice firm. "I trust you to tell me when I need to stop."

"Yeah. Promise...now, do it, please?"

Planting one hand firmly on Brandon's lower back, Hunter brings the other hand down hard on one ass cheek. The sound is muffled by Brandon's shorts, but Hunter's okay with that for now. He keeps on working on that one cheek, bringing his hand down hard in an easy, steady rhythm. When Brandon starts squirming again, Hunter stops and presses down harder on his back. "Stop it."

It's just like last night--Brandon sighs and his whole body relaxes. His dick's still hard as a rock and still pressing against Hunter's thigh, but the rest of him is easy and pliant. "Yeah," Hunter breaths. "Yeah, Brandon, just let me do this."

"Mmm hmm...."

Hunter lays down a dozen or so more blows and then he pauses, his thumb hooked under the waistband of Brandon's boxer briefs. "Lift up a little." When Brandon does, Hunter slowly pulls his shorts down, reaching under Brandon to make sure his cock doesn't get tangled up in them. Brandon whines just a little at the touch, but he doesn't move any more than he has to.

"God you're good," Hunter murmurs as he looks down at Brandon. He's not only good, but gorgeous too--the long lines of his back, his broad shoulders and those buff arms. And of course, there's his ass and those fucking thighs. Hunter once had sex with a professional cyclist who had pretty good looking thighs, but that guy had nothing on Brandon.

"Hey, don't stop." 

"Right," Hunter says, shaking his head a little. 

This time when he starts smacking Brandon, the sharp slap of Hunter's hand landing on Brandon's right ass cheek sounds more like a real spanking. Brandon's cheek is already somewhat pink, but, as Hunter starts spanking him harder and faster, it gets darker and darker. It's almost pretty--aside from his player's tan Brandon's pale and Hunter likes the contrast between each cheek. He keeps spanking.

Finally, just about the time his hand is starting to hurt and he's trying to guess if Bochey will be sitting Brandon tomorrow or not, Brandon raises his head a little. "God," he says, his voice shaky and hoarse. "I really don't...don't want you to...you're gonna have to stop. Sorry...I really am."

"It's okay, it's okay." Hunter lets his hand rest on the hot skin of Brandon's ass. "I was thinking the same thing."

"I wish you didn't have to stop...God, it feels so fucking good."

"From here too." Hunter slides his thumb down the crack of Brandon's ass. "Gonna make you feel even better."

"Don't keep doing that...I don't want to come...not until...."

"Not until?"

"Make me beg for it," Brandon mumbles into the bedspread.

"How are you so fucking perfect?" Hunter says. He gives Brandon's ass a soft slap, more a tap than anything. "Now lose the jeans and shorts and roll over."

Brandon squirms just a little when he rolls over; but he's smiling, so Hunter's pretty sure he's enjoying the burn. He's also so hard it looks almost painful and his cock's slick at the head, which explains the damp patch on Hunter's leg. "Nice," Hunter murmurs, running a finger from the base to the head. It's a lot more daunting than he remembers, but Hunter's a man with a plan and anyway, he loves a challenge.

"Where's the...oh never mind."

Brandon's thoughtfully left the lube and a couple of condoms on the nightstand; Hunter ignores the condoms but grabs the lube. "C'mon, Brandon, spread your legs for me." He emphasizes the order with a smack on the inside of Brandon's hip and there it is again--Brandon's biting his bottom lip. God, Hunter thinks as he settles in between Brandon's legs. If Brandon ever does that in public, Hunter'll probably lose it.

As Hunter fumbles with the lube, he makes a mental note to get a pump bottle. Not that he's making any assumptions about how many times he's going to spend time with Brandon, but still, there's no reason not to be prepared. 

Finally he's got a couple of fingers slicked up and he's reaching down to tease at the smooth skin behind Brandon's balls. It's almost like cheating--Brandon catches his breath and clutches at the bedspread, but other than that, he doesn't move. He teases Brandon a little more, waiting until Brandon starts to open his mouth. "Tell me," Hunter says.

"Driving me crazy." Brandon's breathless. "Need to move...can I? Please?"

"Hmmmm...." Hunter slips his fingers lower. "Yeah, go ahead," he says as he pushes both fingers up inside Brandon. Brandon plants his feet on the bed and lifts his hips up, before shoving back down on to Hunter's fingers. "Want it pretty bad, doncha?"

"Yeah," Brandon says. "Oh fuck yeah...."

Hunter lets Brandon fuck himself on Hunter's fingers for another minute or so, before, he reaches down and puts a hand on Brandon's left hip. "Enough."

"Hunter...I can't...I've gotta...."

"Fine, keep moving. Of course, if you do, I won't be able to suck your dick, but it's your choice, man."

Brandon gets very still, very fast.

"Thought so," Hunter says with a chuckle. He slides down on the bed a little so he can bend over comfortably and then slowly drags his tongue along the shaft of Brandon's cock. Almost immediately, he hears Brandon make this _noise_ \--half gasp, half moan--and God, but Hunter needs to hear that again. As he takes the head into his mouth, he twists his fingers hard. Brandon makes that noise again and for a moment, Hunter's afraid he's going to shove up into Hunter's mouth. He doesn't however and Hunter hums his approval.

Hunter's cocksucking skills aren't in the same league as Brandon's and there's no way he's going to take all of Brandon's dick. However, he knows he's good and he knows that Brandon's already wound up, so he uses his tongue and works his fingers in Brandon's ass as Brandon keeps making those incredible noises. It's fucking addicting and Hunter gets caught up in some kind of weird feedback loop where Brandon's gasps make Hunter suck harder which makes Brandon make more noise. 

Just about the time when Hunter's pretty sure Brandon's gone totally non-verbal, Brandon squirms just a little. "I can't...oh God...need to move...need to come...Hunter...please please please...let me...tell me to...please!"

Hunter drags it out for just a little longer and then sits up, pulling his mouth off Brandon's dick with an obscene slurp. "Yeah," reaching for Brandon's slick cock. He jerks him off rough and fast and shoves his fingers in _hard_. "C'mon do it, Brandon! I wanna see you come."

Yelling wordlessly, Brandon arches his back and comes so hard he gets some of it on his long neck. His shirt takes the worst of it though, and wow, there's something unexpectedly hot about Brandon wearing a shirt they've both come all over. Hunter'll think about that later, though. Right now, he needs to take care of Brandon.

"Hey," he says softly. Brandon shudders a little and Hunter rests a hand on his hip. "What do you need?"

"'M okay." Brandon's eyes are closed and his voice is rough and low. " Just a little...ya know."

"Yeah, I know. You good for a minute?"

"Mmm hmmm."

Next time, Hunter thinks as he heads quickly for the bathroom, he's going to be a little more prepared. Assuming there is a next time, that is. He washes his hands in a hurry, then grabs a towel and wets one end of it. Making a detour to the mini fridge, he grabs a bottle of water and then sits down on the bed next to Brandon. 

"Hi," Brandon says, looking up at him. He reaches up and curls his hand around the back of Hunter's neck and tugs him down for a kiss. It's an oddly sweet kiss that contrasts sharply with the raunchy sex they've just had. 

"Here," Hunter says when the kiss is over. "I brought you a towel and some water."

"Thanks." Brandon scrubs at his face with the towel and then takes the bottle of water. He drinks about half of it in a couple of big gulps and Hunter tries not to stare at his mouth. "Just what I needed," he says and hands the bottle over to Hunter.

The cold water feels great going down; Hunter finishes it off and head to the fridge for another bottle. "Sweet sweet hydration."

"Gimme some of that."

They pass the bottle back and forth until it's empty and then Hunter looks Brandon over. "That shirt's almost a lost cause."

"No kidding. I'm gonna get hard just looking at it, let alone putting it on. Even after it gets washed."

Hunter reaches down and starts unbuttoning the shirt, brushing his fingertips over Brandon's chest as he does. "You're not seriously thinking of just putting it in your bag are you?"

"I could put it in with the unis, let Murph and his guys deal with it." 

"Oh thanks for that image," Hunter says, making a face.

Once Brandon's tossed the shirt aside, he looks up at Hunter. "Stay for a while?"

"All night, if you'll let me," Hunter says, before he can stop himself.

"Sure," Brandon says as he stretches. "Come're."

And so Hunter finds himself settled in next to Brandon for the second time in 24 hours. It seems that last night wasn't a fluke. Brandon likes spooning; he rolls onto his side and presses his back to Hunter's chest. He smells like sex and sweat and if Hunter could get hard again this quickly, he would. As it is, he just slings his arm around Brandon's waist and nuzzles the back of his neck.

"Never would have figured you for a cuddler," Brandon says.

"I could say the same about you. Not the only way you've surprised me."

Brandon laughs, a ridiculous snorting noise that makes Hunter smile against Belt's neck. "Yeah? Because good boys from small towns don't?"

"Were you ever a good boy?"

"Must have been, once. But then I went out with this girl when I was in 9th grade and she decided I wasn't the kind to tell everyone what we were doing or call her a slut, so we fucked a lot that year and over the summer." He sighs. "Next year she met this guy and really fell for him but he wasn't the kind not to tell and all of a sudden everyone in school talked shit about her. And...it's fucking Nacogdoches, you know? Not like she could get away from it."

"That's rough."

"It's fucking unfair's what it is. No one called the guy a whore. Of course, I beat the crap out of him, but people still talked." Brandon shrugs a little. "Then I started fooling around with one of the guys on the team and it was hard, ya know? Because on the way to games everyone's talking trash about fags and you're sitting on the bus with the guy whose dick you're sucking after school."

"Yeah."

"So that's me in a nutshell. I've gotta keep quiet about it because it's not that much better in college or pro ball, but I'm not gonna feel bad about it." Rolling his shoulder back a little, he nudges Hunter and says, "what about you?"

"Not 'til college. I mean I guessed, but I thought that maybe I just didn't like sex much, you know? I slept with a couple girls and it was okay but no big deal and I didn't think it'd be different with guys. Turns out I was really wrong about that. After that...guys and blonde bombshells, all of whom knew what they were getting into."

"Haylee knew about me. Jason, that guy on the team, was her cousin. She walked in on us once."

Hunter can't help laughing. "Wait, you married a girl who caught you fucking her cousin?"

"You could look at it that way. Or you could say that we're both bi so it made a lot of sense. Or you could say I married someone I love. All of those really."

"You're really fucking lucky."

"Like I don't know that." Brandon chuckles. "Oh hey, speaking of Haylee, she wants you to come over for dinner during the homestand."

"Um...." Once again, Hunter can't be smooth. "Um...just for dinner?"

"Yeah, just dinner. She usually doesn't do threesomes with other guys and anyway, I told her you're gay."

"Does she...oh never mind."

"No, it's okay."

"Does she see other guys?"

"A couple times, like with Bum, but she's got a girlfriend right now. There's this cafe she likes to go to when I'm away; she met a dancer there."

"A dancer?"

Hunter can feel Brandon's shoulders shaking as he laughs. "Yeah, she dances at Mitchell Brothers."

Going up on one elbow, Hunter stares down at Brandon. "Wait, your wife is dating a stripper?"

"Yeah. A lot of them are lesbians. Can't blame them really; you know what guys at strip clubs are like."

"Okay, no."

"What?" Belt rolls on to his back to look up at Hunter.

"You're totally bullshitting me."

"No I'm not. You want me to ask Haylee to have her over for dinner the same night you come over? Haylee wants me to meet her."

"That would be different." Something occurs to Hunter. "Do you take most of the guys you sleep with home to dinner?"

"Um...not usually. I might have talked about you a lot to Haylee. Um...maybe even before all of this." Brandon ducks his head a little. "I just...sorry."

"For what?"

"It's just...it's good with you. I know...small sample size and all and I'm not asking you to...."

"You saying you'd like this...us, to be a thing?" Hunter leans down and kisses Brandon. "Because I would. I just don't want to cramp your style."

"Like I said last night--you're not going to be weird or possessive? Like if I want to watch porn with Timmy or something?"

"Are you kidding? After what you said, I'd want to watch porn with Timmy." Hunter shakes his head. "I'm not talking about being exclusive. I'm just saying maybe we could have sex, kinky or not, on a semi-regular basis."

Reaching up, Brandon curls his hand around Hunter's neck and pulls him down for another kiss. It's nice to kiss without the wild desperation of earlier; Brandon's mouth is still amazing and now, Hunter can take his time. He sucks at Brandon's lower lip, then nibbles it before Brandon pushes his tongue into Hunter's mouth and it's good, it's all good.

Hunter'll take it as a yes.

* * *

It's just six in the morning when Hunter slips out of Brandon's room. He's on the same floor and it's early enough that he shouldn't see anyone and...holy crap, there's Posey slipping out the door of someone's room. It could be his room, but something about the look on Posey's face tells Hunter it isn't. Posey's as wide-eyed as Hunter feels, although in reality, Hunter knows no one ever gets as wide-eyes as he does. 

"Hey," Hunter says. And then, because Posey still looks a little nervous, he grins. "No, it's cool. I mean," he glances down the hall toward Brandon's room. "What am I gonna say?"

Apparently their rooms are in the same direction, because Posey falls into step next to Hunter. "Sometimes I wish we still did the roommate thing," he says. He still looks wary, but not guilty and Hunter remembers what Brandon said about Posey and Cain.

"This is how Bradnon...how Belt knows about...."

"Yeah," Posey says and Hunter sighs a little in relief. He probably shouldn't have said anything but Posey's clearly okay with him already knowing. Posey chuckles. "He caught me in the hall like this and so after the game the next day, he...well you know."

Vogey was right--they do all know about Brandon. The lack of judgment is pretty amazing, although it's not like Posey can throw stones. "Shut me up if I'm out of line...."

"Little late for that," Posey says, but he's smiling. 

"Brandon said you guys might as well be married and I just...I think it's cool."

Posey's stopped at what must be his room and, key card in hand, he turns and looks at Hunter. "Yeah it is," he says with a nod. "And you...you're okay. 

"See ya," he adds and then the door closes behind him.

It's like God's looked down and given him an individual blessing, Hunter thinks with a grin. He's really part of the team now, in a way he didn't feel he was in Philadelphia. It's not knowing that their MVP candidate is involved with the ace in some kind of group marriage, or that their first baseman is sexually adventurous, although both have something to do with it. It's more that he feels he fits in here. He's gay and even Vogey, whose wife's tweets mention God a lot, is cool with it.

And Buster Posey thinks he's okay. 

_-end-_

**Author's Note:**

> At some point, I'll run out of titles with the word "thing" in them but I haven't yet. Thanks to Darkrose, for all the usual reasons.


End file.
